Monthly Archives: March 2014


Dog Socks

Okay, Ripley and I have to talk to you about her socks. If you ever run into us at the grocery store, you’ll see that in addition to her blue service vest, she will be sporting a pair of very spiffy baby blue argyle socks on her front feet.

These socks are the topic of much conversation. Every time we go shopping, we hear, “Oh, that is SO adorable!” Or titters of laughter. Or we overhear children saying to their parents, “Look, mom. That dog has socks on!” Sometimes, we let the comments slide by as part of the background. But often, my pride gets the best of me, and I have to respond. I turn and say, “They are so she won’t slip.” In other words, I am saying, “Really, I don’t just dress my dog up for the heck of it. These socks have a purpose.”

Here’s how it all started. One day fairly early on in our working relationship, we were in a grocery story, far back in one of the aisles. Ripley slipped on the waxed floor, and all four legs went sliding out, leaving her on her belly. I coaxed her up, and we took a few steps, but it happened again. At this point, she was trembling with anxiety. She was lying in a heap on the floor, and refused to get up. I panicked, not knowing how to reassure her, or get her out of the store. She is too big to carry at 62 pounds. Eventually, I was able to convince her to stand again, and very slowly and carefully, we made our way out of that aisle and safely to the check-out stand.

Here’s the problem: We keep Ripley’s nails trimmed back, but she has always had a very long quick. So we can only cut the nails so short without causing a bleeder. This is complicated by the fact that when she is tense in a new situation, she is a nail-walker; instead of letting her feet relax, putting her pads down, she arches her feet and hits the ground nails first. These two issues spell disaster when encountering the high-gloss floors  in grocery stores and a few other establishments.

I had a pair of dog boots, but they seemed like overkill. They are tricky to put on and off, she isn’t too fond of them, and they take up a lot of space to carry around all the time. I browsed the internet looking for solutions, and hit upon dog socks. The dog socks are simple little stretchy pull-on socks. On the underneath, they have non-slip pads. They’re like the socks hospitals give out to patients. The socks come in sets of four. Initially, I put on all four, but I soon discovered that using two is adequate – front-wheel drive is enough traction, and makes getting in and out of gear (as it were) simpler. As an additional bonus, your set lasts twice as long, and you have an extra pair ready to go when one pair is in the laundry.

I found some online, but wasn’t sure about sizing, so I went to The Healdsburg Doghouse to check out their supply. The first time I went in, the only ones they had in Ripley’s size were pink argyle. Desperate, I bought them. Hey, they worked great! But I knew we couldn’t stick with pink. It was bad enough to be getting the “oh, so cute!” attention. To have them in pink was beyond embarrassing. We checked back in regularly, and soon found the baby blue argyle – whew! At least now they match her vest. And they are so small, they fit very nicely into the pockets on the side of the vest, making them always handy.

Dog Socks 2-sm

Ripley models her dog socks at the grocery store.

You want the socks to be snug, so they won’t fall off. Ripley ended up wearing a large. (They make them for toy dogs, so some are very tiny.) Occasionally we have an errant sock because I don’t get them on well, and I’m at the checkout stand and look down to see a bare front foot, and we have to back-track to locate the missing sock. Or a nice person says, “I found your sock.” But for the most part, they stay on really well. The socks are meant for indoor use, so don’t need to be laundered often, but they do wash nicely. Sometimes I forget she has them on. The other day, we walked through the parking lot in the pouring rain, and were in the truck, and I noticed she was sitting up in the back seat, instead of lying down as she usually does. I glanced at her, wondering what was up. Oh, gaw! She had sopping wet dog socks on. Sorry, Rippers!

Dog socks are also great for elderly dogs at home who are dealing with arthritis or stiffness if you have laminate or hardwood floors, and the dogs are beginning to have trouble getting up from a prone position. Again, you just have to remember they are not designed for outdoor use.

Even though we’ve been using them for years now, Ripley still acts completely put out when we stop at the door of the grocery store to put on her socks. I’ve become very skilled at getting them on – I brace my body against hers, and use a stay command so she stands still. But she will hold her foot up in the air for a couple of seconds, as if she can’t walk. Then, she takes that first step – and supreme confidence takes over. It’s as if she’s saying, “Oh, right! I have my socks on! Nonslip!” She prances through the store with great assurance, and I think, once again, thank goodness for dog socks.



Buying Groceries

It had been a pretty uneventful trip to the grocery store. We were almost home free, standing in the checkout line – me, Ripley, and my wife Sabrina. As Sabrina pushed the cart ahead, the woman before us turned and said, “Oh, what a cute dog.” I said thank you. She said, “So, is she working, or in training?” Oh. This question. We get this a lot. Because I don’t have an immediately identifiable disability, i.e., I’m not in a wheelchair, and I don’t appear to be blind, people often think I’m training Ripley. And, to be fair, the presence of Canine Companions for Independence in the county does mean that folks do see more training teams.

“No,” I said. “We are a working team.” Then she said, “I wish I had trained my dog to be an assistance dog.” At first, I held out a vague hope that she was saying this because she had some disability, and was recognizing the fact that her dog could have been assisting her over the years. But then, the conversation went in the direction that these conversations go, far too often.

“Just the other day, I had to take my mother to Kaiser,” she said. “I dropped her off, and then I was in the parking lot, and I realized, I still had her Kaiser card and her I.D. Well, I knew I couldn’t leave my dog in the car. She would just panic! So, I went up to the building, and I explained what happened to the person at the door, and he said, ‘Well, just go in, and bring it to her, and hope that no one stops you.’ And no one did! Weren’t we lucky!”

I smiled awkwardly, and said nothing. Because what I was thinking was, “No, I wish someone had stopped you and asked you to leave. Because it’s people like you that make it difficult for people with real service dogs.” But I didn’t say that, because I’m sure she would have thought I was being rude, and she wouldn’t have understood, and she probably would have thought I was making a federal case out of some little incident.

And really, I don’t want to have that feeling. I get angry and flustered. I long to say something, but I don’t. It’s not worth the effort, number one. I can’t be in education mode every moment of every day. I am out with Ripley whenever I am out – and that means these little incidents happen a lot. People are constantly saying things to me such as, “I wish I could take my dog into restaurants,” or “You’re so lucky to be able to bring your dog everywhere.” Well, yes, in a way, I am lucky. I’m grateful for this privilege. I love my dog, and she means the world to me, and I can’t imagine negotiating my daily life without her. But I also hate my disabilities. Do you not think I would trade a “normal” dog/handler relationship for a completely healthy mind and body?

Because of folks like this, the ones who bend the rules, I end up running into problems. I have people who see Ripley’s vest, and still ask me if she is a service dog when I enter a business. There are people who buy vests just so they can bring their cute little toy poodle or chihuahua into the store. (Which isn’t to say that small dogs can’t be service dogs – they can. I’ve just seen a lot of small posers.) I was at a big-box stores, and listened to a dog barking, aisles away, the entire time I was there – supposedly a service dog. Service dogs don’t behave like that. Fortunately, on that day, the staff people kept coming up to me and saying, “Can you believe this? Some people.” They recognized that Ripley, by her demeanor, was truly a service dog, and honored the two of us by commiserating with us over this imposter. Thank goodness. But because of recent incidents like this, and ensuing media coverage, there’s been a bit of a backlash. What was once all friendly has now become occasionally hostile. And it’s largely due to those who try to pass pets off as service animals. There is a difference.

In the end, the only thing I can really do is keep to the high ground. I try to remain friendly, make sure that our team is always behaving well, and follow the rules. We have responsibilities as well as privileges. I never forget that. Even at the grocery store.




Ensuring a Friendly Welcome

When Ripley and I are out in the world as a service dog/handler team, most of the time we receive a very warm welcome. We are lucky, living in Sonoma County, California – the presence of Canine Companions for Independence (CCI) means that many people in this region are familiar with the blue vests of service dogs. We are frequently approached by folks who say they have attended a graduation at CCI, or they have friends who raise puppies, or that they themselves have been part of the training process of a working dog. All of that exposure means that, for the most part, Ripley and I don’t have to explain ourselves.

But we have run into those moments when a store clerk or restaurant owner has met us at the door and said, “No dogs.” Often, it has been a situation involving a first-generation American, perhaps because of the lack of exposure in their countries of origin. So, for example, I have caused consternation at gas station quick stops, some restaurants, and small groceries.

In each case, rather than either giving up and leaving, or getting angry and demanding my rights, I look at the opportunity as a teachable moment. Ripley’s service vest has zippered pockets, and they are handy for much more than plastic waste bags. The U.S. Department of Justice provides, via the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA), an ADA Business Brief about service animals. It is a one-page summary about how a a business must respond to a service dog and his or her handler – what questions they can ask,  how they must treat them, all the basic rules. It also explains in simple, straight-forward language what a service dog is, differentiating them from pets, and provides a telephone number and website for further information.

I always keep at least three copies of the ADA Business Brief in Ripley’s vest. If I run into a situation where someone is unfamiliar with service dogs, I pull out a copy and present it to them. It’s amazing how the tension dissolves. People love to have explanations and something tangible to refer to – especially in a situation where you might be dealing with a person who speaks English as a second language, having something in writing is key. In a Japanese restaurant, I remember the owner said very gratefully, “Oh, thank you. Now I can show this to any of my patrons, in case they ask me why there is a dog in the restaurant.” Later, when I was eating, I looked over towards the kitchen, and saw the entire kitchen staff reading the brief.

At a Mexican grocery, I had similar good results. Once I had shown the brief, and explained (another thing I will often do is make the connection with my medical alert bracelet, since my condition is not readily visible – it helps people understand more — then I point to the similar symbol on Ripley’s vest), on a later visit to the same store, a young girl was expressing fear around Ripley’s presence. This is another cultural gap, where in some countries dogs may run wild in the streets or be used mostly as guard animals, so people are more fearful of them. The store owner, speaking to her in Spanish, explained that this was a helper dog, and that she had nothing to fear. It was a beautiful moment, hearing him advocate for us.

More recently, I have run into encounters at other establishments where our entire identity as a service dog/handler team is being questioned. That is fodder for another post, as we ponder the abuses of the system, when folks randomly buy vests online and then take pets into stores and restaurants, passing them off as service dogs, introducing an unneeded hurdle for the real working teams who must then deal with the repercussions. Very frustrating, and too common. But, as I said — for another post.



The Three Levels of Service

Most people think a working dog is constantly at the same stage of alertness, but there are actually three levels of service: on duty, on call, and off duty.

Ripley Poetry Slam

On duty is the stage the general public is most familiar with. When a working dog dons her vest, that means she is on duty. When Ripley is on duty, a number of things take place. First, she is focused and alert, with her attention on me. She walks easily and closely at my side, and is not distracted. If someone asks to pet her, she looks at me first to see if it’s okay. She allows a brief hello, and is back to business. People who expect the typical exuberant Labrador greeting are often disappointed, thinking she is being unfriendly, but that’s not it. She simply has a job to do.

She tucks herself into small spaces, staying out of the way, with her top priority being that she is in close proximity to me. When we are in social settings, she is extremely quiet. She sits through theater performances, concerts, restaurant meals, and no one knows she is there until she emerges at the end from under my chair or the table.

And, of course, she does her job. Ripley is both a medical alert and assist dog for my seizure disorder, and a psychiatric service dog for my bipolar disorder. It is her job to remind me to take my medications on time, to help me get to a safe place and stay with me when I am having my seizures, to calm me down when I begin being hypomanic. Because my medications are sedative, she also has tasks similar to those of a hearing dog, and wakes me in case of emergencies, such as a smoke alarm going off, or other middle of the night incidents.

2013-07-20 Ripley

The next level of service is on call. This means the dog is still working, but at a more relaxed level. Typically, on call is when the dog is at home. The vest is off, the leash is off. At our house, Ripley usually stays in the same room with me, just inches away. It looks as if she’s a dog taking a nap. But, she’s still working. Many of her tasks happen at home – medication reminders, mood management, seizure monitoring. The difference is that she doesn’t have to wear that public persona. She can appear more like a dog. However, she’s not doing crazy canine things like the other two hooligans in the house, such as racing into the yard to bark at raccoons, or rushing out to annoy the UPS man. Even though this is a step-down level of duty, it is still on duty, and she acts with some decorum.

Ripley @ San Diego

The final level of service is off duty. This is when a working dog knows she is officially allowed to be “dog.” For us, the epitome of this is going to the beach. When we step onto the sand, and I remove Ripley’s vest, she transforms from a sedate and mature service animal into a frolicking pup instantaneously.  In and out of the surf, splashing and playing. We have been to San Diego several times and visited Dog Beach at Ocean Beach, a favorite location. Even here, though, her behavior is somewhat different than a typical dog. The handler/service dog bond is so strong, that when she plays, she wants to interact with me, not other dogs. So Ripley politely greets any canines who say hello, but what she really wants to do is have fun with me. She waits on the beach until I wade out into the surf, and I open my arms wide. Then she races out to meet me to give a wet hello. She turns, runs back to the shore, and we repeat – over and over – as if we are the only two on the beach.

We also have off duty time wading in the Russian River, playing at the dog park, or even in our own front yard – without the vest, romping through the grass, being silly. That’s all it takes.


Why Canine Bodhisattva?

When I decided to begin a blog about life as part of a service dog/handler team, why did I choose the name “Canine Bodhisattva”?

In Mahayana Buddhism, a bodhisattva is defined as an enlightened being who compassionately refrains from entering nirvana (the end of suffering, desire and the effects of karma) in order to stay behind to help others attain enlightenment. In other words, the bodhisattva puts others before self.

The bodhisattva also lives by vow. Instead of being pulled here and there by desire, this being follows the path ahead of her, remaining true to her commitment.

Each morning, when I put the blue vest on Ripley, my service dog, I watch this transformation happen. It is as if she has donned a uniform, even the robes of a monk. She stands straighter, aligns her shoulders, and waits alert at my side. Now, she says, I am ready. How can I be of service to you today?

I plan in this blog to share with you some of the things Ripley and I have learned together. Our experiences out in the world, interactions (good, bad, indifferent), resources we have come across. This will be a celebration of a partnership, an honoring of the working relationship, but I hope also a toolkit for others on similar journeys.

And yes, I am a Zen practitioner, so vow and Buddhism have influenced some of my thinking about our relationship. In addition to her other duties, Ripley has become a skilled meditator – lying next to my zabuton, she knows when the sitting session starts, and when it is about to end, often giving a yawn or stretch just before the chime goes off, much to the delight of those leading the session.

Welcome to “Canine Bodhisattva.” Both four-pawed and two-legged ones.

Michelle Wing © Copyright 2014, All Rights Reserved
%d bloggers like this: